Finding Noonvale
by India Squirrel
Summary: Redwall is safe and secure, but there are rumours of trouble in the flatlands, and refugees are running to the protection of its walls. There is only one place that can save them now... Random fic, please RR!
1. Prolouge

Random epilogue for possible story, please R+R, tell me whether or not to continue...Hopefully not too clichéd...  
  
~  
  
It was the only story that opened with a scream.  
It was the story the badgers never told, the tattered parchment scroll that lay forgotten in the shelves of the gatehouse. Its pages had long since worn to near dust, the spidery writing crafted delicately upon them faded with time. No beast had ever got beyond its first ripped pages, for this was no bedtime story. This was a tale of a forgotten time, and a world beyond the walls of Redwall Abbey.  
So when Methusalah went hunting in the thick dust, he did not know what he was holding when he pulled out the leather bound scroll. He held it in one hand, studying it carefully through his half moon spectacles. His eyes were old even then, and in the half-light of the gatehouse he could barely even make out the title. Finally, with a heartfelt sigh, he pushed open the gatehouse door.  
'Constance, could you read something for me?'  
It was harvest season, and the big badger was covered in raspberry juice and apple pips. She walked over to the old mouse, her bulk making her seem clumsy, and yet her face was smiling.  
'Yes, Methuselah?'  
'I found this at the bottom of the shelf!' he said cheerfully, waving the tome around until it spiralled with dust. Constance sneezed loudly.  
'Bless me! What have you got here, then, old mouse? It's not another record of three summer's raspberry picking, is it? Or another of those endless books on the care of bees?'  
Methusalah sniffed in disapproval, and the badger grinned.  
'Come on, then, let's check this out.'  
'Ah, Constance!' came a loud voice from the lawn. 'I was wondering, could you...?'  
Abbot Mortimer tailed off as he regarded the parchment.  
'Got some more reading material for us, Methusalah? Come on, then, let's hear it!'  
The Gatekeeper gave a disgruntled sigh as Constance tenderly opened the book. It creaked hopefully, and Methusalah lovingly dusted the page with a damp handkerchief. Brushing a fly from her fur, Constance put her nose to the page and began to read... 


	2. The squirrel in the mine

Officially chapter one, sorry it it's depressing, it will get happier :)  
  
~  
  
Matti screamed, sending her voice rushing through the mines.  
  
The ferret her pushed the branding stick cruelly into her fur, another holding her tightly by her arms. She wriggled desperately, trying to get away from the burning heat searing through her flesh. All around, ferrets laughed and pointed, and a young squirrel pushed its face into its mother's fur, hiding its eyes.  
  
Finally the ferret dropped her, and she lay on the ground, panting as the pain rushed through her arm. The second ferret, the one with the branding stick, leant over. His breath smelt like old ransoms.  
  
'Don't do it again,' he whispered. Then, with a kick in her direction, he was off, calling his friends and marching away down the narrow tunnel.  
  
Matti sat up slowly, shaking with swallowed tears. The other slaves were staring at her, their eyes worried and fearful, as though she had something contagious. She looked down at her arm, at the single black flame tattooed upon her flesh, and shuddered. It was a caressing, curving shape, a single black light rolling into the shape of a fire burst. She stared up at the surrounding squirrels, a mute plea for help. They turned away. They were afraid. Well, she wasn't afraid.  
  
She stood quickly – a little too quickly, her head spun and her ears buzzed. She staggered, and would have fallen had someone not grabbed at her arm, pulling her back into line. The slave master clipped cuffs around her outstretched paws, pinching the skin of her arms and stretching the brand on her upper arm. She winced, and the slave master grinned.  
  
'Don't lash out,' said a quiet voice next to her. She turned and smiled at her brother, a thin, emaciated young squirrel. His eyes were begging her to stay calm.  
  
'I couldn't hit a fly,' she whispered, with a comforting smile, and he relaxed. But his eyes were on her brand, and she knew he was wondering. She felt inside herself, looking for her normal mad temper. But it wasn't there. There was only a terrified, boneshaking fear in the pit of her stomach.  
  
You coward, she thought with revulsion. They've tamed you at last.  
  
She wasn't a large squirrel, but what she didn't have in size, she made up for in anger. Perri, her brother, said that she was temper from head to tail, and that it would get her into trouble someday. As if it hadn't already. Her fur's colour was indistinguishable beneath layers of dust and ash from the mining work, but her eyes were clear brown, filled with heart wrenching longing.  
  
The stinging pain in her arm had faded to a dull, echoing throb, and she began to tune her work to the rhythm of the pain. Hit, turn, pull, hit, turn, pull. The soft rock came away easily, falling to the baskets below. It was a valuable building material and fuel – you could shape it into anything, if you had the skill. And it burned, like no other rock could. Ashenite, the guards called it. Black gold. But the slaves had another name for it. To them it was Farenkya, the old Loamhedge word for the stuff of life. Heart's blood.  
  
Now, as they pounded unceasingly into the blackened walls, a tall ferret beat relentlessly on a small drum. The ringing impact of the wooden mallet he used echoed around their ears, and on each one Perri flinched slightly, his small tail twitching hesitantly with each dull thud. Between impacts Matti could hear Talan, the slavemaster, shouting at one of the slaves further up the line, a skinny mousemaid dressed in a shapeless smock, lashing around with his leather whip.  
  
Finally, belatedly, Matti found the surge of anger in her heart. It buzzed insistently, like an angry hornet, and she shuddered, trying to suppress it. Peering over at her arm, she tried to find the brand, but it was hidden now by her own thick fur, covered in a thick layer of dust. With a deep, sad sigh, she drove her axe into the wall, sending a shower of rock onto the ground.  
  
'We have to get out of here,' she murmured. The otter beside her laughed, his gaunt shoulders shaking fiercely.  
  
'Get out, Matti?' he said, the full, glowing irony of her words gleaming in his voice. 'You've more chance of catching an eagle.' He plunged his axe into the stone, engrossed again in his work. Matti turned to Perri.  
  
'Do you agree, Perri? Do I have more chance of catching an eagle?'  
  
He shrugged, a bead of sweat on his forehead.  
  
'I wouldn't know an eagle of it bit my brush off. All I know is, this is all I've ever known. If I got out, where would I go? What would I do? No, Matti, we're slaves. Let sleeping dogs lie – make the best of things.'  
  
She tried to talk to him, but he turned away, keeping with the speed of the drummer. She could only watch, pityingly, wishing with all her soul that she could help him. But there was nothing. Only a sunburst of temper that forced itself into words.  
  
'I won't die down here!' she whispered angrily. 'I'm going to get out of here, and you're going to come with me!'  
  
She pulled her axe from the rock and hit with such force that a small avalanche cascaded down the stone face.  
  
'I swear I'll see the sky before I die. Even if I die trying.' 


	3. The Blue Cavern

Introducing the bad guys...  
  
~  
  
The room above the caves was a strange one, even in the underworld of the mines. It was formed of a small cavern, leading back into the earth, and furnished with shining silks and hangings, lying over ornate tables and elaborately carved wooden chairs. Many tunnels fed into the cave, each guarded by a rat or ferret dressed in black and gold. In the cave wall burned a fire, masked by a sheet of blue crystal, sending a surreal ghostly glow into the cave, and a pane of the same bluish crystal formed a window between the cave and the mine below.  
  
Marek Fynara, Prince of the Imperial Underworld and son of the Blackened Flame, paced impatiently back and forth across the cave, a rat hurrying eagerly behind him. His lustrous black fur flowed smoothly back from his creamy throat and his long claws tapped insistently on the rocky floor.  
  
The vixen reclining in one of the chairs raised a paw to her head.  
  
'Please, brother, must you march so?'  
  
He tapped his nails purposefully and his sister winced delicately. With a grim smile, he turned to the crystal pane and stared out at the workers.  
  
'Look at them,' he murmured. 'Like ants beneath our feet.  
  
His rat servant laughed shrilly.  
  
'Ants beneath our feet. Very good, my lord.'  
  
The vixen heaved herself from the chair, stalking towards Marek.  
  
'Leave us, Asrek.'  
  
The rat bowed hesitantly, then hurried away, trying to hide his relief. The princess moved alongside her brother, sharing his view. She was a striking creature, soft grey fur cut with copper highlights running up to golden ears and quiet black eyes, which narrowed as she stared at the slaves.  
  
'They are pitiable.'  
  
'That, Mian, is the difference between us,' answered Marek wearily. 'They are despicable, the lowest of the low. And yet still you find it in your weak heart to pity them.'  
  
Mian shrugged and turned away.  
  
'You know I wish we didn't have them in the first place,' she said calmly. 'When I inherit the mines, I'll free them all, if only to see the looks on their faces.'  
  
'You have no vision, sister.'  
  
He moved to the corner of the room, pretending to pour himself a glass of greengage cordial. Stealing a glance at her from the corner of his eye, he felt a surge of loathing. Look at you, he screamed inwardly, just look at you! You are grey and weak, you pity slaves! I am ebony, strong as midnight! I am the true master of the blackened flame!  
  
Aloud, he said simply, 'If only males could inherit.'  
  
Mian perched on a chair, stretching lithely. A young ferret maid brought her a plate of oatmeal biscuits, and languidly she ate one, and then another, before waving the girl away.  
  
'We have had this argument. When Mother dies, I will inherit. You men have no staying power. Only in the hands of the vixen is this kingdom safe.  
  
A thin voice interrupted the brewing argument. It came down one of the many passages, and every rat guard jumped to attention.  
  
'Mian?' said the voice weakly. 'Mian, where are you?'  
  
With a heartfelt sigh, Mian stood, brushing crumbs from a silky dress.  
  
'I had better go and see what she wants.'  
  
She made for the door, then suddenly turned back.  
  
'But remember, Marek, you may be stronger, but I am superior to you. One step out of line, and I will leave you high and dry.'  
  
Marek bowed his head in supposed agreement, and Mian nodded.  
  
'Don't forget.'  
  
Then she was gone, walking down the passage into the darkness, her brush swinging gently in her wake.  
  
Marek stood for a moment, heart pounding. Then, in a frenzy of anger, he picked up on of the delicate hangings and ripped it in pieces, throwing it after his sister. Kicking one of the tables, he threw himself into the chair, whispering to himself.  
  
'High and dry, my sister? We shall see...' 


	4. New Arrivals

Another instalment of my story. Thanks very much to Missie Mouse and Acoustical ferret (did I spell that right? Sorry!) for reviewing the story, and also to all my other reviewers. Please read on!  
~  
  
'Skipper, you old waterwalloper! Well I'm blowed!'  
  
Rollon Stickle heaved himself out of a roadside ditch, a clump of burdock clasped in his left paw. Grinning widely, he hugged the brawny otter standing before him.'  
  
'Rollon, me old matey! It's been, what, six seasons?'  
  
'Nearer seven, Skip – you haven't come back to the abbey since the midsummer afore last! Well, come on, come on, our Abbot'll be wanting to see you!'  
  
The big otter spread his paws, and several younger otters peeped out from behind.  
  
'Matter o' fact, Rollon, I'm just passin' through. Taking the youngsters up to the fall for the autumn salmon. I like a good salmon.'  
  
Rollon chortled so all of his five chins wobbled.  
  
'I never knew an otter who didn't like his food. Why don't you come up to the abbey, stop for the night? My Bell's made some mushroom and leek pastries, and there's apple flans to follow.'  
  
Skipper was tempted.  
  
'The kind with rosehip custard and cream?'  
  
Rollon winked.  
  
'The very same!'  
  
'Count me in, matey! Come on, you scamps.'  
  
The party set of up the path, stirring dust in their wake. Five otters and a fat hedgehog cellarkeeper.  
  
*****  
  
'Might out what you're doing with those candles, Jeni!'  
The young mousemaid ran lightly through the abbey, carrying six white candles in her paws. Other abbeybeasts dodged out of her way, holding her at arms length as she crashed on through the rooms towards the great hall.  
  
'Oops! Scuse me! Sorry, Brother Aubrey! Mind out, Sister Rosemary, candles coming through!'  
  
Sister Rosemary picked herself up off the floor and went to stand next to a chuckling Brother Aubrey. She sniffed disapprovingly.  
  
'These youngsters. No respect for their elders. I make no claim to being better, but after many seasons loyal service...'  
  
Brother Aubrey smiled at her cheerfully.  
  
'Come, sister. She's related to Gonff. You know as well as I do that that family are attached to the clouds.'  
  
Jeni raced into the Great Hall, still dodging the brothers and sisters of the abbey. Skidding over the shiny floor, she pulled up at the table, threw the candles down and gave a military style salute.  
  
'All candles present and correct, ma'm!'  
  
Badgermum Bella laughed lightly at the enthusiastic candle bringer. Reaching out her huge paw, she ruffled the youngster's ears gently, and Jeni giggled.  
  
'Stop it, Miss Bella.'  
  
The badger laughed harder.  
  
'Stop it yourself, you rascal. Running through the abbey like that, you scared poor Sister Rosemary near out of her wits. Sit yourself down here, before you hurt someone.'  
  
Jeni tucked in beside the huge badger, watching with awestruck eyes as she sorted berries and nuts into piles, her large paws working at a terrific speed.  
  
'Great seasons, Miss Bella! It's a wonder we don't get almonds in the stew and raspberry omelette, the speed you do this sorting.'  
  
Bella smiled, handing the young mousemaid a handful of blackberries to chew at.  
  
'It's when you say things like that I'm reminded of your father, aye, and his father before him. You're more a mousethief than an abbeybeast, little Jeni, and I hope you stay that way. Your brother can be sensible. Don't let anything damp your spirit'  
  
A gong echoed resoundingly through the abbey, ringing against the old stonework. Bella heaved herself up, dusting of her huge front.  
  
'Creatures at the gates!'  
  
*****  
  
Rollon brought the otters in with the air of a commander marching his army back from battle. He winked cheerfully at the dibbuns playing by the pond, his rotund belly chortling as he meandered across the grass. Abbot Frances, the elderly master of Redwall abbey, smiled paternally at the happy cellarkeeper before stepping forward to embrace the brawny otter.  
  
'Skipper, friend. It's been too long.'  
  
The otter nodded, patting the abbot's back gently.  
  
'Aye, matey, I shoulda come back years ago. Still, no time like the present. Can I introduce the little uns.'  
  
The four small otters stepped quickly forwards, bowing neatly as the big otter called their names.  
  
'T'littlest one's Taffy, my sister's girl, then there are the twins, Streamback and Backstream – don't ask. And this one...' he indicated the largest of the little otters, nearly a grown male, though still scrawny with youth. 'This'n's mine. Abbot Frances, may I introduce to my son Feren?'  
  
The abbot bowed down to shake the otter's paw. 'Pleased to meet you, young Feren. You look exactly like your father.' Standing straight again, he rubbed his paws in appreciation.  
  
'I take it you'll join us for the evening meal, Skipper? My brother's and sister's will look after the youngsters.'  
  
Skipper nodded and smiled.  
  
'I'd like that very much, Father.'  
  
The older beasts set off towards the building, leaving the young otters standing on the lawn, surrounded by a circle of dibbuns and some of the younger abbeybeasts. Jeni watched the one Skipper had called his son with curiosity. There was something about him, a sort of air of self- confidence that she found intriguing, and she studied him, trying to work out what made him so calm. He was like a rock, standing in the middle of the lawn as the others shifted and swayed around him.  
  
Suddenly his head swung round and he looked straight at her. With a deep blush she turned away, ducking her head and staring at the grass. A few moments passed, then she chanced a glance up. He was still watching her, even though the other three had been pulled away by one dibbun or other and were heading towards the abbey. Then, suddenly, he began to walk towards her.  
  
'Alright?'  
  
She smiled at him, flustered.  
  
'Yes, thank you.'  
  
There was an uncomfortable pause, then Jeni broke the silence.  
  
'You...you want to go up to the abbey?'  
  
He looked her up and down appraisingly, then grinned.  
  
'Ok, matey.'  
  
She gave him the smallest of pushes.  
  
'Matey yourself, planktail!'  
  
'Least I've got a good tail, littlenose.'  
  
They stared at each other fiercely for a moment, then Feren began to laugh. Jeni joined him, until they were both shaking with hysterical laughter.  
  
'C'mon,' Jeni grinned, brushing a tear from her whiskers. 'Mrs Stickle's making apple flans. You don't want to miss those.'  
  
They headed up towards the abbey, until the lawn was empty of creatures. The afternoon was fading into the gently colours of evening and the bird's were drifting into nighttime slumber. But the sound of young beast's chatter echoed over the lawn as the four otters were given food and drink, and a strange feeling of well being drifted out over Redwall Abbey.  
  
*****  
  
Any good? Please let me know! I'll get the next chapter up as soon as possible... 


	5. The whistling axe

Thanks to any reviewers who looked at my last piece. PLEASE review, I'm desperate to get the story finished, but if I haven't got an audience...  
  
~  
  
Matti drove her axe into the soft rock, spilling fast avalanches of loose stone down the face of the mine. The slavemaster watched with obvious approval. Difficult and short tempered though she was, Matti could outwork any other squirrel in the mine, holding her own against much larger beasts such as otters and even the odd hare caught by the guards.  
  
Perri, on the other hand, was sweating and shivering beside her. She watched him with sympathy, but she couldn't help him. The short chains on her wrists were stretched tight enough as it was. There was no possible way she could stretch the extra couple of feet.  
  
The slavemaster, Scarhide, came to stand behind, his pungent breath smoking in her nostrils. She wrinkled her nose delicately, turning her head away slightly to escape the smell. He leered at her, leaning in closer so she couldn't escape. There were pieces of fish and fruit caught between his blackened teeth.  
  
'Not so cocky now, are we? Now we're chained back to the wall.'  
  
She averted her gaze, concentrating on the rock in front of her. She longed with all her heart and soul to drive the axe into his stupid, ugly head. He obviously realized what she was thinking, for his grin widened.  
  
'Getting mutinous, my love? Don't lash out, else we'll do more than brand you.'  
  
She gritted her teeth and swung the axe into the rock, sending another chunk of rock spiralling into the darkness. He laughed again, a cold, growling laugh.  
  
'Don't get so angry, my love. What did the wall ever do to you?'  
  
She could feel Perri's eyes on her, begging her not to rise to the bait, not to react. Her heart was pounding insistently inside her chest, and her paws were trembling on the haft of the axe. Fixing her eyes on the rock wall again, she continued to crash the metal against the rock, and more and more stone went down in the darkness.  
  
The slavemaster grunted, seeing that she could not be bullied. He glanced around, then his eyes settled on Perri. A slow leer wandered across his face and he took just the one step he needed to be next to the smaller squirrel. His paws played with the leather whip.  
  
'You're falling behind, my lad. Do you want me to speed you up?'  
  
Perri struggled with the heavy axe, attempting to drive it again into the rock face. His tired muscles could lift the axe no higher than his waist. Scarhide was delighted. He rubbed his paws together around the whip, talking all the time to Perri.  
  
'Dear oh dear, we can't have this, can we? Can't have slacking in the mines.'  
  
Perri was panicking. Matti could feel his fear, and the sweat running off his forehead glistened in the light of the torches. She clenched her fists over the axe. Don't rise to the bait, she thought, don't let him get you.  
  
Scarhide flicked the whip threateningly, so that it snaked around Perri's shoulders like a serpent.  
  
'This might sting a bit, lad. But it's for your own good.'  
  
The whip hissed through the air and hit the young squirrel's back, leaving a shining dark streak in his fur. He screamed with pain, sobbing as the whip rose and fell.  
  
And Matti cracked.  
  
Aiming neatly, she raised the axe and stuck the piece of rock she was chained to. The sharp axe cut through the chain like a knife through butter. With her free paw, she wrenched the second chain from the soft rock and stood panting, her eyes wide and wild as she stared at the free manacles.  
  
Scarhide turned triumphantly, his blackened teeth showing clearly in the torchlight.  
  
'Oh, now you've done it. Pulling the chains out. You'll get more than a whipping for that.'  
  
She backed away, keeping eye contact, trying to stare him out. It only seemed to annoy him.  
  
'Staring is rude, my love.'  
  
My love. How dare he. Her eyes flashed over the glowing torches and the leering slavemaster, past her sobbing brother and around the lines of the slaves in the mines. Her fierce temper rose inside her like ice on fire. She raised the axe and swung it, hearing its powerful whistle as it spun through the air.  
  
Straight into Scarhide.  
  
He fell like a stone, a patch of blood on his furry temple, his black teeth still leering at her. There was an expression of surprise in his eyes. Matti stood, her chest heaving as she stared at him. She felt huge and powerful. And angry.  
  
'I'm not your love,' she whispered to the dead ferret. 'Never your love.'  
  
Her blood was tingling in her veins, but at the same time a new, creeping fear fed through. She had killed a guard. She had done the unthinkable and rebelled. What were they going to do to her in return?  
  
Perri was obviously thinking the same thing. He heaved himself up, wincing as the blood ran off his back. She turned to him, and there was terror in her voice.  
  
'What do I do now?'  
  
The otter on the far side of them laughed harshly, but there was a note of respect in his eyes as he looked at her.  
  
'Do? I'll tell you what you have to do, young Matti. You have to run, through the mines and as fast and far as you can. You have to get out of this hell hole.'  
  
She stared at him. To her amazement, his eyes were beaded with tears as he watched her.  
  
'I wish I could go, Matti. If I had my way, I'd follow you as long as I lived. But we're weak, me and your brother, and your strong. Your not meant to die down here.'  
  
As if remembering something, he began to hunt through his dirty slave's uniform. With a small sigh, he pulled out a woven pendant, and handed it to her.  
  
'A map of the mines – or at least, how they used to be. Follow it out, and take the river road. Head for Noonvale, Matti. It's the only place that can save you now.'  
  
She blinked, and then nodded, gripping his paw in thanks. Then she turned to her brother. His eyes too were full of tears.  
  
Matti tried to think of something to say, but there was nothing. Perri's eyes just stared at her, all his pain and hope reaching out to her. She touched his face gently.  
  
'Goodbye, my brother.'  
  
And she ran, skipping over the fallen stones and out into the passageway. A deep sadness was throbbing in her heart, and she knew that if she didn't run, she would cry, and if she cried she would never leave. She didn't look back at the old otter and the young squirrel that were watching her leave.  
  
Perri pulled a hand over his eyes, rubbing away the moisture. The old otter smiled at him, and there was compassion in his smile.  
  
'Don't' fret, lad. Your sister's free, and now she's free, there's hope for us all.' 


	6. Listening in

Fanx for the reviews! Sorry if the story's a bit predictable – I like them that way!  
  
*****  
  
Skipper set down his cider flagon and drew a paw across his mouth, wiping away the cream.  
  
'Ah, that's better, matey. Nothing like a good, old fashioned apple flan to keep rudder and spine together.'  
  
Bella tried to look severe, but couldn't help smiling at the hungry otter.  
  
'You should know, Skip. You've had full five flans since you got here. Even hares don't eat apple flans as fast as you do.' Glancing round, she leant forward, her great black and white snout twitching slightly. 'So, what does bring you to Redwall this fine day, my waterwalloping friend?'  
  
Skipper attempted an innocent expression, but failed.  
  
'Why, marm, no more than I said. Rollon'll tell you, I'm sure.'  
  
Bella's eyes narrowed, and there was a definite growl in her voice.  
  
'Don't play me for a fool, Skipper. If you were going to the falls you would take the woodland road. My guess is, you took this road on purpose in the hope that a fat cellarkeeper picking burdock might think that you were just passing through and were in need of a drink.'  
  
Skipper shook his head in admiration.  
  
'You got me marked, Mizz Bella.' He looked around, taking in the curious faces of the brothers and sisters, then turned back to the badger. 'Can we go somewhere more private? I don't want to be listened to.'  
  
Bella nodded, and the two stood and headed towards cabin hole, the high up members of the abbey running in their wake.  
  
*****  
  
Jeni nudged Feren and pointed towards the elders.  
  
'I think your Dad and Mizz Bella are having a little chat. Are you sure he's just here about the autumn salmon?'  
  
Feren was stuffing his face with leftover summer salad, and had to clear his mouth before answering.  
  
'Prob'ly adult stuff.'  
  
Jeni craned her head, trying to peer over the other abbeybeasts.  
  
'Ah, nuts! I can't see where they've gone!'  
  
'Why don't we follow 'em?'  
  
Feren said it as easily as if it was something he did every day. Jeni looked at him, first in shock, then in doubt.  
  
'D'you think we should? We'll get told of awfully if we're found out.'  
  
He laughed lightly, mimicking her prim woodland accent.  
  
''We'll be told off awfully!' Relax, mousie, it won't be anything important. Besides, I'm a master of espionage.'  
  
Jeni still looked doubtful, and Feren let out a derisive snort.  
  
'Well, if you're scared...'  
  
That brought her up in arms!  
  
'I am not scared of anything, Feren planktail, and you'll do well to remember that!'  
  
His grin widened.  
  
'Well, then, I dare you to come with me and listen to those elders. Unless you're chicken.'  
  
She sniffed angrily, then brushed past him, her head thrown back angrily. Feren chuckled under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief.  
  
'Some creatures are so predictable.'  
  
*****  
  
Cavern Hole was small and comfortable, cut away from the draughts that sometimes crept into the main hall. The carpet was soft red, and there were soft chairs and deep sofas all around the room, covered in piles of mossy green velvet cushions.  
  
Bella headed straight for one of the chairs and sank down with a sigh of relief.  
  
'Oof, that's better. Those hall chairs make my old bones creak.'  
  
She looked at the otter standing timidly by the door, and smiled.  
  
'Come on, then, Skipper, sit down and tell me what's going on.'  
  
Skipper obeyed with alacrity, seating himself in the chair opposite her and leaning forwards eagerly.  
  
'Well, you see, Mizz Bella, it's like this. Not so long ago, we were down by the River Moss, near the old quarry, when my Slipweed says, 'Wot's that?' she says, and I said I didn't know. So she and the others went up stream to meet them, leaving me with the kids. Next thing I hear, someone's screaming, and there's red in the water.' He avoided her eyes, but there were crystal tears in his own. 'The cubs were on the bank – they still don't know what happened. I hurried them away, told them we were going fishing, and... well, I guess that's it.'  
  
Bella looked at him quietly, and he looked down, studying the floor.  
  
'I couldn't have saved them, Mizz Bella. I thought it was the steam raft from downstream, but...'  
  
Bella put a hand out and touched his face.  
  
'You did the best you could, friend.' Then her voice became brisk. 'Now, what do you want us to do about it?'  
  
The brawny otter stood and began to pace, his eyes travelling restlessly across the room.  
  
'Well, marm, I think I know where they've gone. There's been talk around for a while now bout some tyrant who's building an empire towards old loamhedge. I think that my... my troop have been taken up that way.'  
  
'You want us to start a war, Skipper?'  
  
He shook his head vehemently. 'Oh, no, Mizz Bella, never that. What I was hoping is you could look after my little'uns while I went out that way, see if I could help them. I know it's a vain hope, but...' His voice trailed off. Bella nodded slightly.  
  
'Any hope is better than none.'  
  
They both stared blindly into the fire.  
  
A sudden clatter disturbed the silence, and both creatures stood up sharply.  
  
'Somebeast's is listening in!'  
  
*****  
  
Feren had disturbed the plate as he stepped backwards in shock at Skipper's words. It had slipped silently down the steps back towards the main hall, but on the final step had flipped over, letting out a sharp crack as it split in two!  
  
'Run!'  
  
Jeni grabbed his paw and pulled him down the steps. They ran as fast as they could up to the dormitories, banging open the door and slipping in, letting the door crash shut behind him. Jeni shook herself briefly, then turned to Feren with blazing eyes.  
  
'Nothing important! Feren, do you have any idea what you've got us in to?'  
  
The young otter shook his head, all his bravado and sharpness deserting him. His hurt was still pounding, but then, to Jeni's amazement, a tear slipped from his eye.  
  
'My mum,' he whispered miserably. 'They took my mum.'  
  
He slid to the floor, leaning against the closed door, tears creeping from his eyes. 


	7. Words and Dreams

This story's getting longer by the minute!  
  
At the very moment Feren was leaning against the door of the Redwall dormitory, the object of his tears was being marched across the flatlands by an army of ferrets.  
  
Slipweed was a young, lithe female otter, with sweet brown eyes and a smart personality. She could catch eels faster than anyone else in the troop, swim upstream for hours and paddle a boat as well as any shrew. Her ears were small and pert, but something about the set of her mouth spoke of fierce determination and an angry desire to succeed.  
  
But now her mouth was closed tightly, and her sharp eyes were pointed at the ground, focused on a tussock of grass. All around her, otters from the holt were doing likewise. One of the youngsters, Temmi, had her paws over her ears and was crying.  
  
The ferret officer pulled his spear from the corpse of the dead otter and grunted in approval.  
  
'Right. We're moving out. If anyone else thinks of escaping...'  
  
His eyes flicked to the dead otter and back. He didn't need to finish the sentence.  
  
Slipweed took Temmi by the paw and pulled her away. As each otter passed their fallen friend, they averted their eyes and nodded quietly. Many of them had pulled flowers from the trees and threw them over the body, whispering the traditional words.  
  
'To dark forest gates silent spirit gone free  
And there in the darkness you're waiting for me.'  
  
Slipweed whispered them too, and there were tears in her eyes. Temmi sobbed gently, and Slipweed gave her a gentle shake.  
  
You're dad's gone, Temm,' she whispered. 'You have to be strong for him.' Temmi nodded, and her eyes overflowed, dropping water to the ground. Slipweed rubbed her ears, pulling her close.  
  
'Thank the seasons my Feren isn't here,' she whispered.  
  
Feren was asleep at last, or at least half asleep. Jeni stood beside him, her paw gentle on his forehead. She sighed lightly, and slipped down the stairs towards Cavern Hole.  
  
Skipper and Bella were snoozing in the chairs, both snoring gently. The flagon of October ale said it all, and Jeni stifled a smile. Then her eyes were drawn to the papers on the table.  
  
They were strange ones, covered in old riddles and rhymes. It was obvious that Bella had been digging around the gatehouse for scrolls, though why Jeni couldn't guess. She perched by the table, turning them over quickly, confused by the whorls of spirally writing.  
  
One interested her more than all the others. There were pictures on it, drawn carefully in dark ink. She brushed away the dust and looked at the writing. The script at the top said 'Noonvale'.  
  
Something about that name sent a shiver down her spine, not the cold, unpleasant shiver of a drop of water, but the warm shiver you get when you know you're going home. She studied the scroll, reading the strange writing, but it was so hard to decipher. All about wardens and hills and three topped oaks.  
  
Bella suddenly grunted and stirred. Jeni leapt in fright and, pocketing the scroll, ran from Cavern Hole, her light feet making little noise on the stone floor. She ran back up the stairs towards the dormitory where Feren was sleeping, all the time very aware of the paper fluttering in her pocket.  
  
Feren turned lightly in his sleep, his mind filled with dreams of his mother. He whimpered like a little pup as he mind created pictures of the vermin taking her away and inside her longed for her to come back and get him, tell him all of it had been a dream.  
  
Suddenly the picture changed. There was a strange calm around him, and everything smelt nice, like cherry blossom and water. He couldn't see the stream but he could hear it. He turned around, searching every where for the trees, but there was no greenery: just darkness. Then he turned back, and there was a mouse in front of him.  
  
A tall, strong mouse, carrying armour and a shining sword. Something about him made Feren feel safe, as though the world was suddenly better for him being there. The mouse spread his arms around him, and suddenly everything was thrown into stark light. There were streams and bushes and wood smoke, and the fragrant cherry trees he had smelt before. Staring round in wonder, he barely heard the warrior mouse come up behind him, until a voice whispered in his ear.  
  
'Noonvale.'  
  
He swung round, and the mouse was smiling, a soft, sad smile. Feren shook his head.  
  
'I don't know what you mean.'  
  
The mouse laughed quietly, and Feren hung his head, ashamed. The mouse laid a paw on his head.  
  
'Noonvale.'  
  
The dream was dissolving, slipping away from the young otter. He tried desperately to hold on, tried to shout after the mouse. But there was no sound coming out, and the mouse wouldn't turn back, not however much he called. The cherry trees were falling into the river, and the water was spinning around him in a great muddled maelstrom...  
  
Feren came awake gasping just as Jeni came bursting into the room.  
  
'I found this script...'  
  
'I had this dream...'  
  
'...it's all in old writing...'  
  
'...with this mouse and this river...' '...I don't know why I took it...'  
  
'...I don't know who it was...'  
  
'...look at the title, it says Noonvale...'  
  
'...he told me I was in...'  
  
There was a sudden silence as both registered what the other had said. They stared at each other across the dormitory, then Jeni sat down sharply. She whispered the word into the air.  
  
'Martin the Warrior.'  
  
Feren passed a paw across his eyes, as though he was unsure of himself.  
  
'Noonvale,' he breathed.  
  
The silence returned. Then Jeni pushed herself upright, shaking slightly. Her voice quivered as she spoke.  
  
'I think,' she said. 'I think Martin the Warrior knows how to find your Mum.' 


	8. The hopeless tunnels

Hi! Really sorry this took so long to update  Hope you like this chapter!

Matti ran down the passages, her breath sobbing in her throat. Her paws slapped nervously on the floor, sending sound ringing off every wall. She ran on, hearing the sounds of pursuit behind her getting quieter and quieter as she ran.

Finally, running out of energy and fear, she fell to a halt and slumped, panting, against one if the rock walls. Her claws scratched against the wall, clawing at the moss and algae. It was cool and damp, and she pushed her mouth up against it, licking the moisture from the plant. It ran down her parched throat, heavy, foul tasting, but still as sweet as the freshest clover honey.

Finally, her thirst at last quenched, she stepped away from the wall and sat down in the middle of the passage, taking stock of her position. She whistled as the full reality hit home, then looked around to check that no one had heard.

She was in trouble. She had killed a guard, and she had run from the slave compound. She had committed a crime so awful, so foul, that if they ever caught her she would be dead in moments.

The outlook seemed bleak.

She breathed slowly, in and out, trying to control her panic.

'Ok,' she whispered to the rock walls around. 'Ok, so I'm in trouble. But if I keep going, I should be able to find a way out.' She peered doubtfully down the passage. 'There must be some way out of this hell hole…'

Her voice drifted into the distance. She stood, staring into the darkness, and shook her head irritably. It seemed to go on forever, round and empty and unforgiving. A shiver of hopelessness ran up her spine, and she twitched her ears angrily, chasing it away.

'Well,' she whispered to herself. 'Here we go.'

Paws held out in front of her, she plunged into the gloom.

She walked for what felt like days, padding down dark corridors of stone, losing her bearings completely. At first she kept count – left, right, left, left, right – but the darkness swallowed her memory and in the end she just ploughed on, walking and walking. The passages twisted and turned like a thousand tiny caterpillars. Each corner was a threat – she never knew whether there was a pocket of ferret guards around the corner, waiting for her to come with their spears pointed. She hid in the shadows, walked through dark corridors. Every now and then she would hear footsteps and run into a side passage, staring wide eyed as uniformed parades of ferret guards marched past laughing and talking to each other.

It was all so strange. She'd been a slave her whole life. She didn't know how to make decisions or anything like that. Any time she found herself at a fork in the tunnel, she would find herself turning round, looking for someone, waiting for a voice to tell her what to do. However impulsive or mad she sometimes was, she did not know anything about actually doing what she wanted to do.

Every day and night became the same, wandering through dark tunnels, searching for the tiniest glimmer of light or of hope. Matti almost lost herself into the darkness: she tried to forget the stories of tunnel ghouls and spirits that the guards told around the campfire in the mines. Some nights, as she tried to sleep, she would feel the brush of a finger on her fur, and leap up to her feet and run, her ears flat. Each time, she would stop a hundred metres away, her heart pounding, staring into the darkness, her eyes straining as she hunted for what it was that had woken her.

Sometimes, in the darkness, she would consider turning back. It seemed so hopeless. The darkness squeezed the life out of her. She was starving, lost, tired – scared to sleep. The only water she could find she licked off the walls, were small underground streams came down. She didn't know where they went – sometimes she tried to follow them, but they only ran down the tunnel for a short while, before disappearing back into the earth.

The only thing that kept her going was her own resolution.

That she WOULD see the sky.

…

'I don't understand it!' Jeni gasped. 'How can… how can that happen?'

Her eyes suddenly turned slightly angry, and she glared at Feren.

'How come Martin came to you? He was the best friend of my ancestor, not yours! Martin's never come to an otter before.'

Feren was still sleepy, and he yawned as he answered.

'Lor', I dunno. Maybe it's my stunnin' good looks.'

Jeni stamped her foot.

'Feren, you're not taking this seriously!'

Feren shook his head.

'What is there to take seriously? So I had a funny dream, an' you found some old piece of paper. Is coincidence, ain't it?'

Jeni shook her head.

'Nothing Martin says is coincidence.'

The sound of a door banging somewhere downstairs broke the sudden silence. Feren jumped.

'What was that?'

'A door, you stupid otter. What did you think?'

'But who's going out at this time?'

It took a moment for what he'd said to filter through. Suddenly, they both dashed for the window.

Down below, they could see two lights in the darkness, as two cloaked figures headed out through the gates. Feren leaned in close, his whiskers scratching against the glass.

'Jeni, it's my dad! I'm sure it is. It can't be anyone else!'

Jeni put a paw over his.

'We can't stop him going, y'know. Just hang about here, and it'll be fine. You're dad's tough.'

But Mossflower beyond looked very dark and menacing as the lights disappeared through it.


End file.
